Hey all.

Might be a busy week this one. No delays or such today, but just forewarning.

Cover Art: Kirire

Chapter 136

For all Saphron's grandiose declaration of a campaign against the source of human-to-anomaly transformations, it began to feel like one of those "step 2: ?" memes a day later. They didn't have any leads to look into, didn't have any angles, didn't have any cases. Every office had been set on a path that from the very first step twisted in confusing circles. It was like being handed a test tube set meant for children and being told to cure cancer.

The containment cell containing the Flesh Egg and whatever that birthed created had become after exposure to the Schnee Serum had been cleaned away. Blake didn't feel too bad for it, given the creature's mental manipulation of female minds. It made it clear the new anomaly planned to continue its cruel murders of women, except ratcheted up to a new level of awful and while mind controlling them in the process. It was good it was dead, but they hadn't gotten much from it other than answers on what the serum did.

Ruby had gone home after the cell was cleaned. Apparently, her family were doing a big meeting thing with both sisters, the father and Qrow. It was likely about Ozpin and to let Taiyang express his frustration with Qrow, but she hoped they didn't inform him about anomalies. That was something they didn't need right now. Either way, there were no living anomalies in the facility that needed to be looked after, so it didn't matter if Ruby took a week off.

Blake and Jaune spent the week in the office in Vale, looking through newspapers and reports while playing with their pet giant spider. Jaune had bought him one of those toys for cats – a silken worm on a string held by a plastic pole, and he loved to hiss and chase the toy at the end while Blake distractedly flicked it about with one hand. Blake had gotten used to reading the paper with one hand and playing with the other. Timothy was somewhere between a cat and a dog in scales of needing physical and mental stimulation.

When her scroll buzzed, Blake let the spider catch the worm and scuttle away hissing happily to wrap it up in silk, trailing the plastic handle behind him. She'd dig it out later since he never actually ate it. Setting her paper down, she snatched up her scroll before it could vibrate its way across and off the end of the coffee table and answered it. "Hello? Who is this?"

"Captain Ash. VPD. Is your office currently on an active case?"

"No, we're not." It was curious the captain had called her instead of Jaune. "What can we do for you?"

"I need you to check up on someone. It's low priority, which is why I've called you. Do you remember the girl who got caught up in the recent case?"

"The one whose house we hid at to bust the accomplice. Rachel, wasn't it? Has something happened to her."

Jaune perked up, paying attention from his desk. Blake quietly flicked the scroll to speaker mode and set it down on the table so he could listen in.

"Not as such. We conducted interviews with her after you'd gone and investigated her. General procedure. Once it was clear she had no involvement, we offered witness protection in case any of their accomplices or customers thought to get revenge on her."

Blake hadn't even thought about that. They'd been so quick to chase the anomaly that they hadn't thought about what might happen to her. It was a good thing the police had. Then again, it was their job to deal with things like this. ARC Corp was just cleanup for anomalies.

"Once it was clear no one knew her identity, we scaled the protection back but gave her my card and instructions to call me if anything unusual started happening. I meant in terms of unusual people following her, but she called me this morning talking about a strange voice speaking to her from the back of her mind. That was fifteen minutes ago. I'm not sure if it's guilt-induced hallucinations or a lack of sleep making her hear things, but figured it's better safe than sorry."

"We'll check up on her."

/-/

It was obvious why Captain Ash had said it might be sleep-deprivation that caused the voices the moment Rachel opened the door. The girl had been pretty and well-kept the last they'd seen her, but now she looked like one of those people who documentaries talked about who had secluded themselves from all interaction.

Her hair was messy and not in a slept-in kind of way, but a tangled bird's nest with split ends and matted patches. Her eyes were lidded, dark from lack of sleep and trying to close even now but then snapping open a moment later, wide with fear. They weren't quite bloodshot, but there was pink at the edges. The girl was wearing a big sweater and nothing else as far as Blake could tell. Even that looked slept in. Jaune averted his eyes.

"It's you…" the girl croaked in a hoarse voice.

"It's me." It didn't look like she was at risk right now, and she obviously wasn't anomalous yet, so Blake turned to Jaune and said, "Can you go get us some takeout and drinks? And maybe call a cleaning service. I'll get Rachel dressed."

"I'll get on that," he said, turning away.

Blake pushed into the home and steered Rachel toward the bathroom, asking directions the whole way. She turned on the shower, gently cajoled the girl out her clothes, then into it. In the White Fang, she'd actually had to help some people do the same. Sometimes it was a new recruit breaking down in panic after their first engagement, but there'd been at least one case of a woman losing her parents after her identity in the White Fang leaked and vigilantes in Atlas had decided to take justice into their own hands by killing her family. Back then, Blake had traded responsibility with a few other women to look after the person, making sure they ate, showered, dressed, and didn't go near any steep drops or sharp objects.

She knew the guys did it as well, though Adam recounted that had often been with copious amounts of alcohol, angry screaming, or just provoking the person into a fight so they could drive the pain out through violence. Blake had always wondered if that was a "man" thing, or if it wasn't more of a "men who are also radical terrorists, and so inherently inclined to violence" thing.

While Rachel was forced to stand in the shower and wash off days of accumulated filth, Blake worked her way through the woman's bedroom, past soiled and discarded underwear and empty buckets of ice-cream and far more cans of energy drinks than was safe, to find clean clothing. There was plenty of clean outfits but not much underwear. It looked like she'd been slumming around in the latter with little of the former.

Luckily, she managed to find some and have it to the shower in time to hold a towel open and cajole the woman into it to be dried off. She wrapped her up in it, sat her on a closed toilet seat and took to her hair with a comb. Sometimes just being reminded of how you were meant to do things helped. Seeing her own reflection in the mirror probably didn't help when said reflection looked like a swamp witch. It took fifteen minutes, some untangling and blow drying, but soon the woman was back to looking presentable. If exhausted. There was no addressing the bags under her eyes or the limp way she carried herself, but at least she could feel cleaner.

Once she was as clean as she could be, they headed back to the living room. It was filthy, but Blake was able to shunt discard trash and takeout boxes off the couch to make enough room for them to sit. Only then did Rachel crack, collapsing into Blake's arms and wailing pitifully.

"I found out what Mark did!" she cried. "I heard it all!"

Ah. That'd explain it.

They'd never really given thought for the fallout beyond bringing the criminal to justice. That had been done, and Blake didn't regret it, but this was a reminder that everyone had friends and family – even bad people.

"It wasn't anything you did."

"But I could have noticed. I could have stopped it."

"Could you have? Really? It's not like he would have ever shared this side of him with you."

"I… I could have returned his feelings…"

Blake winced. "You know that wouldn't have worked. You could have tried to fake it but he'd have figured it out eventually, and then he'd have been hurt even more. Angry. He'd have taken it out on you."

"But maybe I could have fallen in love with him after. He always said it wasn't fair because I never gave him a chance—"

"He said whatever he thought would get you to go out with him. It doesn't mean he was right." Blake carefully placed an arm around her. "And the truth is he wasn't the main person behind this. The real ringleader is dead. Even if Mark hadn't been involved at all, the murders would have still happened."

"But Mark picked them. He… He chose women to be…"

"I know." Blake cut her off before she had to say it. "I know. But it'd just have been different women if he wasn't involved. I'm not saying that absolves him – it doesn't – but it absolves you. You're not responsible for what other people do."

"I feel responsible."

Blake knew how it felt. She'd been there more than enough times with Adam, asking herself if she couldn't have done better, if she couldn't have changed things. Maybe she could have. Maybe there was a way she could have saved him. But there was one thing Blake had come to realise after all this time.

Even if there had been a way to save him, it wasn't her responsibility to do it.

"A—And I keep hearing this voice…"

Blake's ears twitched. "Are you sure it's not from a lack of sleep? Sleep depravation can show some crazy side-effects. Slurred speech, hallucination, even psychotic behaviour. When was the last time you slept?"

"Last night. Not long," she admitted. Not that she had to given how obvious it was. "Three hours, maybe. I keep dreaming of it. Sometimes it's me being tricked into a van and tortured as Mark watches. Sometimes it's the families of the victims asking me why I didn't pay attention and notice what was wrong with him." Rachel licked her lips nervously. "But sometimes I dream of the voice as well. It… It tells me I can change things. Fix things."

Fix things? That played into her guilt, which left Blake still unsure this wasn't her conscience arguing with her. Rachel was wracked with guilt enough to have her own mind castigating her.

"How does it say you should do that?"

"It doesn't. It… It doesn't give me ideas or say what I should do. It just says I can. It says it could help me do it."

The alarm bells began to ring in Blake's head. If this "voice" had just told her she should have noticed or that she should apologise to the families of the victims, then she would have been prepared to write it off as guilt and her own mind. That was what Blake's had done with Adam for months and months. But to give out vague promises? To withhold information? That wasn't normal. If it was her own conscience then it shouldn't have been capable of keeping secrets.

"Do you hear it now?"

"No. It never comes when other people are around. It's only when I'm alone."

"Does the voice sound like your own voice?"

"No. It's… It's deeper."

"Masculine?"

"I'm not sure. It sounds genderless, if that makes any sense. Not synthetic but… like it could be both. A middle-ground where you'd be left wondering if someone is male or female."

"Can you recall the exact words it said?"

"Not perfectly." Rachel bit her lip.

"Does it tell you you're at fault for what happened? Or that you're not at fault?"

"No. It… I can't remember the exact wording, but it's often more like… I don't know how to put it. Not comforting and not accusing either. It knows Mark's name but says this Mark as if it's only referring to him in reference to him being a person I know. Like it doesn't know him and has never met him. Things like, There are more deaths of helpless women than this Mark causes. You could be the one to protect them. Like that. But not exact. It's hard to remember perfectly. Like a dream. I start to forget the exact words moments after hearing them. Even the ones I just said are more paraphrasing than the actual words."

Paraphrasing or not, it was enough to have Blake on edge. This definitely sounded like something anomalous, but was it the anomaly they were after? It could be wholly unrelated to it.

"Have you bought anything new recently?" Blake asked. "Or interacted with anyone unusual? Beyond us, I mean."

"Um. No. I haven't even been shopping for food since he was arrested. I order takeout and eat it." Rachel looked at the stacks of takeout wrappers guiltily. "As you can probably tell…"

She hadn't accidentally acquired an anomaly, then. That didn't mean it was impossible for one to have spawned in her house. They came out of nowhere as far as Blake knew, and it was possible an entirely mundane item in her home had developed into an anomaly. That needed to be tested. She needed to remove the variables.

"I'm going to suggest you move out of her temporarily," Blake said. "We can set you up with a temporary apartment next to mine. Only for a few days. It's possible that being here where he was arrested isn't helping you. Those kinds of memories might be making it impossible for you to rest."

"I…" Rachel made to argue but soon saw the wisdom in it. Though she didn't know Blake's real reason for wanting to remove her from the house, it was also a very good way to get out of a closed hole filled with rotting food and dark memories. "O—Okay. As long as I'm not a bother. I'm sorry about this."

"It's fine. We're a government agency." Of sorts. "This is what you pay your taxes for." The doorbell rang, signalling Jaune's return. He didn't enter, not knowing what state they'd be in. "Go gather some fresh clothes and any belongings you want to bring. I'll explain what's happening to my partner."

"Okay…"

Jaune was stood outside with some bacon and sausage buns in a bag, and several cups of coffee along with a stack of sugar and cream and cartons of milk. He obviously hadn't known what she would want and just got a bit of everything. Blake quickly explained to him what had been said.

"I told her she'd be staying in an apartment near us. If the voices stop, we'll know there might be a new anomaly in the house. Then we can come back and deal with it."

"Good thinking. It really might just be guilt eating at her. If needs be, we can give her something to make her sleep easier. It won't be sustainable for her health, but if one good night's sleep is all she needs to reset herself then it'll do the trick."

"Let's steer away from drugging her for one night."

"It's medicine. Not drugs. I'm talking about strong antidepressants and the like. I'm not saying we hit her with horse tranquilisers."

"Even so, it's best we see if this is an anomaly on her, her home or the one we're looking for, right? And without drugs to muddy the results." Blake looked at his hands, covered in black gloves. "Speaking of, do you remember a voice from when you changed?"

He shook his head. "I don't remember anything, but it was a traumatic experience. My mother had just been incinerated in front of my eyes, along with both my arms from the elbows down. I don't think it's a shock I'd have blocked that out. Even now, I can't really think of how it happened or felt. I just know it did. Every doctor we spoke to, including ones who know about anomalies, said that was more likely shock and repression than any anomalous interference."

That sounded possible. The brain often repressed stuff to protect itself, and something like that… well, it was no great surprise. "But there could have been a voice," she said. "And you wouldn't be able to remember."

"There could have been. It all happened so fast. If the voice's job is to convince someone to accept, then maybe I accepted in a moment of panic or fear."

He looked uncomfortable with the thought, both of it taking advantage of him but also that he'd be so weak as to accept it when his family duty demanded otherwise. But the alternative… if Jaune had refused, he'd have died from blood loss, and since he'd have technically died in Mountain Glenn…

"I'm glad you accepted, selfish as that sounds. You'd have died there, otherwise, and become another figure roaming Mountain Glenn. And if you never hired me and weren't there to try and stop it, there's no guarantee Mountain Glenn wouldn't have expanded to swallow Vale whole."

They stopped talking on such matters as Rachel came back downstairs. It was at that point Blake realised she should have kept a closer eye on her, but it looked like nothing bad had happened.

"No voices?" she asked.

Rachel looked nervously to Jaune. It was hard to tell if it was because he was a man or because she was embarrassed to have her sanity called out in front of him. "Nothing," she mumbled. "It never talks when other people are close."

"Food for the journey," Jaune said, offering some. "You must be hungry."

"T… Thank you…"

"Does he make you nervous?" Blake asked. "Jaune can go on ahead if—"

"No!" Rachel blushed. "I'm not… I'm not afraid of people. Mark was… What he did was wrong, but it's just him. I'm just… I just feel like I'm about to become a patient at some hospital." A mental one, she didn't say. "Is that what's happening?"

"No. No, it's not." Jaune stepped in with a relaxed smile. "Think of this more as spending a few nights at a hotel to clear your head. This place isn't helping you. As for our involvement, it's our fault you're in this condition. We asked you to serve as bait and you did. The least we can do is check up on you and make sure you're okay."

"He's right." Blake said. "You aided in bringing a terrible person to justice. Not Mark, but the one behind him who did the killing. You shouldn't feel guilty." If the voice wanted her to, then Blake wanted her not to. "Most people wouldn't have been willing to place themselves in danger like you did. We were able to track down the culprit because of you."

"Was he arrested? The news has been vague…"

"Unfortunately, he was killed during the attempt." Jaune lied easily. "He chose to take his own life rather than be held accountable for his crimes, though he did kill at least one homeless person before he was. Still, it could have been a lot more if you didn't help us catch him. Now it's time for you to let us help you."

Her eyes watered. With a sniffle, she smiled and nodded. "Okay!"

/-/

Moving Rachel out her home helped her mood but didn't immediately get rid of the voice. That only went away two days later, after Rachel admitted to Blake in private that she answered it – that she spoke back to it and, because of the advice Blake and Jaune had given her, told it that she didn't feel responsible and that it wasn't her duty to fix things.

A rejection.

The voice vanished soon after, and the woman began to recover and collect herself. Cleaners were sent into her home to make it habitable again, but Rachel decided to move. Too many bad memories. They kept her another three days but there wasn't a single instance of the voice coming back, and she soon left with a smile on her face and a new lease on life.

It didn't calm them any.

"The fact the voice followed her means it couldn't have been an object in her home," Blake said. "If she'd said yes, if she fell to her negativity and accepts its offer. Do you think she would have transformed?"

"Maybe." Jaune was frowning. They both were. "I'll report this to Saphron. I have a sinking feeling she'll say we should have let it happen to find out for sure. Or if she doesn't say it, she'll secretly be thinking it."

I think we all are, Blake thought.

If they let Rachel fall and transform, they'd have proof the voice led to transformation, and proof that an outside entity was doing this. As it was, all they had were unproven suspicions. Promising ones, but uncertain all the same. The voice still could have been guilt, or even a sign of mental instability in Rachel. For all they knew, she might have some small proclivity for schizophrenia or auditory hallucinations.

Letting her accept the voice's offer and tracking her vitals as she transformed would have made for compelling evidence, but it would have also doomed her to eradication. Blake didn't even think Saphron would suggest that out loud.

But, as Jaune said, they must all have been thinking it.

The scroll rang again. Jaune's this time. He answered it.

"It's Captain Ash!" It wasn't on speaker, but the woman was shouting. "We need you at Vale low-security prison right now! The one you caught alive the other week was being kept there. Reports have it he spoke of hearing voices, but the prison guards refused to take it seriously and failed to report it until today. Now, the whole prison has gone dark. No contact in or out. Get here now and sort this shit out!"

"The one— Mark? The one we arrested?"

"Yes! Damn it. I've got the prison surrounded and blockaded but – fuck, there are noises coming from within. It's grisly. I think the inmates are being slaughtered in there, but the team I sent in haven't responded and I can't risk more."

"We'll be there." Jaune hung up.

"He's transformed, hasn't he? The one we sent to prison."

"It's likely. This voice wasn't only reaching out to Rachel, it seems. Get your weapons. This sounds like it's going to be combat heavy. I'll contact Saphron and fill her in."

"This is the case that keeps on giving. Sheesh."

Next Chapter: 10th March

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